


a low-life hood

by kopi_pheng



Series: Lost Children [2]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 04:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19124977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopi_pheng/pseuds/kopi_pheng
Summary: By the time Jay arrived at the Isle, Mal was already there.[au where villain kids were adopted off the isle when they were babies]





	a low-life hood

By the time Jay arrived at the Isle, Mal was already there.

The first thing that he did after the guards leave via the magical golden bridge was let out a long, loud whistle. The number of times that they had been on the Isle of the Lost notwithstanding, the pair still hadn’t dared to venture far from where they were usually deposited. It didn’t take long for Mal to show up from wherever she had been. 

“’Sup?” Mal greeted, putting extra emphasis on the P. Jay had an absurd mental image of Mal blowing a bubble gum bubble and popping it after. Of course, there was no bubble gum on the Isle and Mal wouldn’t have snuck something so mundane over here. Yet. She did, however, put a hand on her hip, cocking it slightly. It was a casual but imperious gesture; one Jay thought suited the Isle perfectly. Of course, Jay knew that it wasn’t a habit the younger girl had developed here at all. He had seen it often enough in the halls of Villeneuve School.

“Oh, you know,” Jay answered casually while undoing the buttons of his pastel-colored shirt. “Just hangin’.” Mal’s fingers drummed rhythmically against her own hip as she waited for Jay to get changed into something more Isle-appropriate. Although they hadn’t encountered many people while here, considering that they never wandered too far away, it had only taken a couple of leers and dumbstruck stares for them to wise up. Even at eight years old, the pair had enough self-preservation to know that their clean pastels and crisp lines made them stick out. They were already outsiders here, being the only children. Frilly dresses and sleek slacks would make them targets. Mal had been on the Isle enough times to learn and adapt, and she had passed on her knowledge. 

Most of the time, Jay saw Mal in her Villeneuve School uniform: pleated plaid skirt in blue and yellow, pressed white shirt with its rounded collar under a blue sweater, a yellow ribbon tied at the throat, and soft brown leather shoes. The girls were also supposed to tie their hair up with a yellow satin ribbon, but Mal knew better than to do so, what with the color clashing so spectacularly with her naturally dark violet hair. They had become good friends over the past few years and Jay had become accustomed to seeing Mal in casual clothes too. Her usual ensemble was a dress paired with tights and her shoes encased in ballet flats. Jay had learned that the tights were a compromise, because even though she detested skirts, Mal wasn’t allowed to wear pants. “Too boyish” had been the verdict, apparently.

Now, Jay was beginning to get used to seeing Mal in her Isle outfit, snuck over in a knapsack no one noticed never came back from her temporary exiles. White tank top, layered with a jacket that was unfortunately not leather, dark brown jodhpurs and sturdy winter boots. If anyone took a closer look, they would clearly be able to see that the clothes were of a much higher quality than could be found on the Isle. Still, the style was sufficient for them to pass muster, to meet the standard for being someone who belonged on the Isle of the Lost. 

When Jay was done with his make-over, he spread out his arms and did a quick twirl, smirking all the while. “How do I look?” 

Honestly, there wasn’t much he could do at all, not with what he had to work with. All he did was take off his shirt to reveal the undershirt beneath. From his backpack, he extracted a red vest and threw it on. Next time, he would bring some harem pants. Jay wished badly that he owned some jeans, but like Mal, he wasn’t allowed them. “Jeans are for the peasants of Auradon,” his adoptive mother, Jasmine, had always said. Prior to enrolling at Villeneuve, Jay had always dressed like a prince of Agrabah, which he supposed he was. The sneakers that he had gotten when he arrived was too prized a possession for him to leave in some cache on the Isle, so his school shoes would have to suffice. 

“You’re missing something,” Mal mused, the hand now placed under her sharp chin. She reached over and mussed up Jay’s short hair. “Oh, quiet down, you big baby,” she said in answer to his indignant yell. “There, perfect.”

In lieu of thanking her, Jay asked, “You ready to take the plunge?”

Mal nods in response, eyes sparkling. Jay’s own expression is grim. As curious as he was toward the mysteries of the Isle, he was still wary of the dangers that lurked here. 

“Let’s go,” Mal said. Without even looking behind her to see if Jay was following, she journeyed into the maze-like alleyways between the grey buildings that Jay had become used to seeing in his time spent on the Isle. Jay couldn’t help but cast his eyes at the open area where he had always been deposited when he was exiled here. It was empty and boring, but at least Jay knew that it was safe. It was familiar while the streets beyond were not. Adventurous as Jay was, he still felt the trepidation in his belly as he followed behind Mal. 

They hadn’t planned it; not exactly, anyway. Despite their burning desire to find out more about the Isle, etched into both their minds was the bone-deep understanding that being sent here was a punishment, not a vacation. So, yeah, there hadn’t been some arrangement that they would both get themselves sent over so that they could explore. This was pure coincidence, albeit one that they had prepared for. It was why they had come up with the whistle, to let others know that there was another Auradonian kid on the Isle. Mal had spread the word to a few others that she knew had been sent here before at least twice. Uma, for example. Thus far, no one had ever responded to the signal. They had all agreed that when it happened, whichever pair would try to delve further into the Isle. 

Well, there was no time like the present, right? Besides, Jay thought, it was fortunate that him and Mal were the ones to be here at the same time. From what he had gathered, their tallies for being sent for these groundings were the highest. They were more acquainted with this place, not that that meant very much at all. Mal had never told him explicitly how many times she’d been sent here, but he didn’t think it would number more than a dozen. 

“What are you in for this time, anyway?” Mal’s question broke Jay out of his rumination. 

Jay tried to answer the question as casually as he could. “Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather thought I stole Evie’s tiara.”

Just as Jay expected, Mal wasn’t fooled by his tone at all. “Thought?” she asked. She didn’t have to elaborate. Jay knew Mal well enough to know what details she wanted; Mal knew Jay well enough to know he would give them to her. 

“It was Chad,” he answered bitterly, not able to hide his scorn any longer. Besides, they were both on the Isle now. No one could chastise him for speaking badly of another student, another prince. “I found it in his backpack just this morning. He was the one who called for the fairies.” 

Despite the lessons Jay had been given along with Aziz since he was small about tolerance and acceptance, he couldn’t help but feel a strong hatred for the Charming boy. After all, he had been the reason Jay got sent to the Isle for the first time, back when they had both just started at Villeneuve. Chad had not been happy that he had to share a room with anyone, much less some “peasant prince” from Agrabah. Jay had always had a way with words, joking around and getting people to laugh. He hadn’t realized that his playful taunts struck a nerve with Chad so much so that the blonde boy would try and punch Jay. One of the most important skills Jay had picked up before being sent over for school was how to defend himself, Aladdin had made sure of that. While Jay wasn’t a particularly good student, he wasn’t incapable of learning anything so of course he had fought back. Unfortunately, no one seemed to believe it was self defense.

“What a dick,” Mal observed. “You should prank him,” she suggested. “Get him in trouble or something. Let him have a taste of being left on the Isle.”

“And get sent here myself instead? No, thank you.” Although Chad had been the one to throw the first punch and was definitely also involved in that first fight, he had never been punished the same way that Jay had been. Jay doubted that Chad had gotten a worse sentence. What could be worse than being left alone here, where all the villains of Auradon were situated? “What about you, Lady Mal?” Jay injected a teasing tone into his query, trying to distract from his resentment. “Cursed any babies recently?”

“Honestly? I just didn’t want to deal with my parents for a bit.” Jay’s eyes narrowed. Mal’s manner was much too casual and detached. She wasn’t that good of a liar, but she was in front of Jay right now, leading the way. He couldn’t see her expression to determine the veracity of her words, but Jay was sure something wasn’t right. “I made a mess making them breakfast in bed and almost set the kitchen on fire.”

Oh, that must be it, Jay realized. Yesterday was Mother’s Day. Wondering about when exactly Mal was sent over, Jay couldn’t help but flinch. Would Princess Aurora and Prince Philip have punished her for that when Mal was just trying to celebrate with her mother? Jay resolutely tried to not think about it. Despite the disaster, Mal must have put in a lot of effort. At the very least, it was the thought that counted, right? It would have been unreasonably cruel to send one’s daughter away for that on Mother’s Day. 

Jay didn’t venture more on the topic, focusing instead on their current task. The alleyways here were like a rabbit’s warren, built without much rhyme or reason, as far as he could tell. He had tried to map it out, memorizing as much as he could and painstakingly tracing it back out when he got back to his dorm room. With the help of Mal and Uma, they had constructed a decent image of what this part of the Isle looked like. 

The map, although not very comprehensive, had been copied and passed along to those others who wanted to explore too. It was something that helped keep them safe, Jay thought, a brilliant idea on Mal’s part. Jay was accustomed to these streets, but he was still a rookie compared to Mal. Even so, he could tell that they were nearing their destination.

In spite of the differences in their knowledge of the Isle, they all had one thing in common: They had done their very best to avoid adults at the Isle. Luckily for them, the area where they’re dropped off didn’t seem to be occupied. There were buildings, sure, lots of them too. But if Jay had to guess, these had a different purpose than habitation. His imagination could provide a laundry list of possible uses but knowing that the Isle was home to every villain who had ever lived, he would prefer to stay away from that line of thought. 

Sooner or later, all the alleys opened up to a main thoroughfare. Even at his most adventurous, Jay had only spied on the large road from the shadows, curling up into a motionless ball the moment someone walked by. Today, they would throw caution to the wind and suffer the consequences, whatever they may turn out to be. 

Before stepping out into the open from the cramped backstreet, they both stopped and turned toward each other. “Well, this is it,” Jay said instead of enduring Mal’s intent stare. He reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze. He was just about to let go when she gave a squeeze back. Suddenly, he had an armful of Mal, her warmth comforting against him. 

“C’mon,” Mal said after stepping back, as if she hadn’t just hugged Jay. “We don’t have all day.” Once again, Jay found himself following behind the younger girl. 

There were more people here, that was for sure. More here and now than he had seen in all the times he had been to the Isle of the Lost. It was still quiet, if Jay compared it to the streets of Agrabah on Market Day. But like in Agrabah, these people walked quickly and confidently, always with a wary eye out for lightning-fast fingers.

Jay and Mal tried their best to fit in, observing how the locals walked and affecting it as well as they could. Head held high, shoulders back, like they were in an etiquette class back at Villeneuve. But instead of affecting a poised and elegant gait, the pair did their best to sidle or strut. At the very least, their clothes seemed to blend in well enough. They still got looks from the other passers-by, no matter how hard Jay tried not to notice them. Regardless of how hard they tried, there was no way they could fully integrate into the populace. Not unless they could suddenly gain a decade or two in age. 

As they made their way down the street, they both strained to look around without being too obvious about it. Their pace was much too fast for the meticulous observation that they would have preferred, but it would have to do. The buildings here were lower than the structures that greeted them each time they arrived. They saw exposed brick walls and roofs of corrugated steel. There were no streetlamps, but they did notice strings of lightbulbs that hung from one side of the street to another. On some surfaces were handmade posters, advertising things like cakes and hot tea, tarot readings and magic wishes. 

The further they went, the more the trickle of traffic became a throng. They all seemed to lead to and originate from a humongous warehouse up ahead. Jay caught Mal’s eye and raised a questioning brow. Should they go in and have a look? Mal nodded, mouth set in a determined line. 

The most prominent thing Jay noticed was the noise; it was cacophonous enough to remind him of his homeland. He couldn’t decipher the words, but he would bet his beloved sneakers that most of them had to do with haggling and questionings of quality. The stalls were made of wood, painted different colors and some with large cloths proclaiming their wares. There were larger shops too, cordoned off from the others with different materials. The pair passed by what could be a tea shop. None of the tables and chairs matched, as far as Jay could tell. None of cups or cutlery did either. He didn’t think his mother would have accepted that kind of service. 

Jay and Mal took their time to peruse around the place, heedless now of their need to blend in. With so many people around, Jay was sure no one was keeping too close of an eye on the two of them. Jay felt so brave, or perhaps reckless, that he suggested to Mal that they should buy some food here. He approached a stall that was selling steamed nuts, mouth already opening to ask for a portion. Jay’s mouth snapped shut like a trap when he noticed the flies buzzing around. Mal pulled him away even as his eyes tracked on of them landing on the already-shelled nuts. 

Right. The rations that the guards had left him, cold as they were, were probably a safer bet. They were never as good as a hot meal, but the food always tasted good, was always healthy and nutritious and kept him full throughout his exile. 

They kept moving, eyes filled with wonderment as they took in the unusual sights. They had never seen poverty before. They didn’t even know enough to label it as what it was. It was just different from what they were used to, and that was enough to make things special in their eyes. 

Jay didn’t know how long they had spent wandering through this market. They hadn’t stopped, though they went from stall to stall leisurely. They had circled their way through nearly the entirety of the place. Jay was about to just leave, following along with the current of the surrounding people, but he stopped when he noticed Mal wasn’t beside him anymore. He found her crouched down, looking at something among the merchandise that was spread out on a tarp on the ground. 

The woman sitting on a wooden crate, the proprietor, presumably, eyed Mal with what Jay thought was an apprehensive intensity. Mal held something up and asked, “How much are these?” Jay moved to stand behind Mal, curiosity getting the better of him. Mal was one of the most unmaterialistic people that he knew, what in the world would she want to buy? Besides, he knew that the girl had lots of things back home. Why would she want anything from here? 

At the woman’s wrinkled brows, Mal dug into her jacket pocket and extracted some gold coins. She only had three of them, Jay could see them gleaming in the palm of Mal’s hand. “Is this enough?” Still the woman was silent. Her eyes had gone wide now, her expression slack. She nodded at Mal, face still blank. “Thank you!” Mal said before jumping up and linking her arm through Jay’s and pulling him along with her. 

They made their way outside and back where they had come from. Still mostly entangled with Jay, she revealed her purchase before putting them on. They were a pair of fingerless leather gloves, colored a plain brown. Jay thought Mal must have a good eye for size, because while the gloves seemed somewhat loose, they stayed on and moved with Mal as she flexed her fingers. “That was a good buy, don’t you think?” she asked him. Not knowing how things worked on the Isle, Jay could only agree. 

Jay's watch informed him that it was past noon. The dark clouds that suffocated the Isle always made it impossible for him to estimate the hour. There were less people on the street now. It made Jay feel more at ease, since it was less likely now for them to come to any harm. The adrenaline from their gamboling was burning off fast and Jay started worrying about how dangerous a situation they had put themselves in. Jay expressed this to Mal and she agreed. They decided to make their way back as fast as possible, using the alley that they were more used to.

“Ridiculous!” Unbidden, they both halted at the shrill pronouncement. They crouched down behind a barrel barely big enough to hide them both. The voice came from the main road, Jay estimated. If he leaned over the top of the barrel, he could probably see the person who had shouted. Mal did just that, holding her head above the moldy wood to peek over. More loud words were thrown around. It was obvious to Jay that the man and woman were arguing. “I won’t pay so much for that silly trinket you call magic!”

Now Jay was too interested to think about keeping out of sight. He peeked over too. What Jay saw stunned him.

Like all the children of Auradon, Jay had grown up on fairytales. He was no stranger to stories of parts of people’s souls manifesting outside of their bodies as animals, closets that were portals to different worlds, or forests with rodents of unusual size. But once they outgrew these fables, the children of Auradon were told their parents’ stories, then ones of other citizens of Auradon. Real-life tales, not legends or fabrications. They were accounts of the nastiness that others could subject them to, for them to be aware and be wary of. 

So, of course, Jay could recognize Maleficent, with her night-black robes and curved horns. And there, beside her, with his red turban, mustache and beard, that must be Jafar, Jay’s own countryman. A cold shiver passed through Jay. It was more than enough to tell him to leave. Right now. 

He gestured to Mal, pointing behind him where security was ensured just a small distance away. But she was still watching the adults as they argued. A splintering crack sounded and suddenly Mal was sprawled on the ground among planks of wood. The barrel must have been rotting there for a good while for Mal’s weight to have broken it. 

“Who’s there?” Jafar demanded. Before Jay could help Mal up to run, she had been dragged up. Her wrist was gripped tight in Jafar’s grasp, Maleficent just one step behind him. 

“Let her go!” Jay cried. He whirled around looking for something, anything that he could use as a weapon. Mal was struggling hard. Jay only hoped that she wouldn’t hurt herself in the process of getting loose. Jafar wouldn’t injure a child, would he?

“Mal?” Jay’s head whipped up at Maleficent’s soft query. How did she know Mal’s name? 

All of a sudden, Mal wasn’t being held by Jafar anymore. Instead, she was being bundled up in the dark fabric of Maleficent’s clothes as she embraced the young girl. Jay would swear he was hallucinated, but he thought he heard the world’s most evil villain call Mal “my little girl.”

Jay abandoned his search for a weapon. His confused gaze found Jafar’s and he watched as the former vizier of Agrabah’s mouth grew slack. “Jay?” he asked. How did these villains know their names?

“My son!” was the last thing he heard before he too was swept up in a back-breaking hug. In the midst of his confusion, links were slowly made in his brain and the equations started to add up. Mal never talked about it, but Jay knew that Mal must have been adopted. Her dark purple hair and fair skin in addition to her bright green eyes were enough to tell him that she couldn’t have been Audrey’s blood sister. Jay had never seen the difference between Aziz and him, not in looks and not in the way their parents treated them. He knew that he wasn't their biological child, but he always thought that he had been taken in from the streets. It was logical that Aladdin and Jasmine would keep orphans from becoming street rats. A villain's son, though? Jay would never have imagined it. Nevertheless, something in his heart told him his instincts were true. 

Abruptly, it also made sense to Jay why Chad had never been sent to the Isle before.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited 22nd August 2019: I forgot that the Isle was supposed to be surrounded by ominous clouds like 24/7. So I changed that. Also fixed up some things I messed up. 
> 
> Since the books don’t reference primary schools in Auradon, as far as I know, I made one up. Villeneuve School is named after Belle’s hometown in the 2017 live action remake. I chose Belle to reference because she’s the Queen of Auradon and because she’s most known for books and learning. I put Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather in charge because a. it would be hilarious and b. I couldn't think of anyone else.
> 
> Please let me know if there's stuff I need to tag. Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing. Kthxbai.


End file.
